I need to feel like me again. To feel the stars presence, and the Moons interest. To get so emotional or poetic over the silliest beauties. To write again and it not feel like forced thought. I need that deep seeded feeling of oneness in anything, feeling connected to absolutely anything. If you can't hold on to the world, where do you go? I want to feel my soul again. To feel whole or genuine, or like I have any thoughts or opinions or passions or interests or beliefs. Anything. I feel so blank all of the time. There's no spark, brightness, just lust. Everyone get's lost, but I usually enjoy the wandering. I've loved going crazy and being impulsive and feeling more free than I can explain. Like a literal break from societies reality. I've always called it my "act of being an orb". I'm really good at that. But in the end I always come to a conclusion. Some sort of new perspective. Some more knowledge. What is different here, and why does every day feel like I'm taking in less and less, and losing even more. Why can't thoughts and new theories and poems and stories roll around in my head and easily leave my lips or fingertips like they always have. I'm drained dry, and I don't know why. It's kind of like, you don't know if you're falling, or if you've slammed into the pavement yet. Love is the remedy, but god it's so hard for me. What the fuck is going on?
